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February/March 2003 - excerpts from the editorial
Basel
By Barbara Taylor
I push open the wood-framed windows of our hilltop room. Silence gives way to the cacophonous din of streetcars rumbling on the tracks beneath. My gaze wanders over the russet tiled rooftops, past
the curiosity seekers and shoppers at the antique market across the street, to the distant imposing twin spires of Basel’s ancient cathedral – the Munster. Darkening clouds paint a gray backdrop that
contrasts with the vivid green and yellow mosaic tiles forming diamond patterns on the Munster’s roof.
Standing elbow to elbow with Germany and France, Basel nestles against the banks of the Rhine. Its position has long made it an attractive trade center. Its dye industry evolved into its
present-day chemical and pharmaceutical industries. It was in Basel, renowned for its publishing and paper industry, that humanist scholar Erasmus of Rotterdam published the first edition of his translated
Greek/Latin New Testament in 1516. Home to Switzerland’s oldest university, Basel attracted great thinkers. The physician Paracelsus, theologian Karl Barth as well as the philosopher Nietzsche taught here.
Today this city of 200,000 boasts over 30 museums and 150 galleries in 13 square miles, and annually plays host to over 1000 concerts. Basel is Switzerland’s cultural Mecca.
History breathes in Basel. It lives in cobblestone streets and tranquil alleys. It nestles in the walls of old hotels and lingers in courtyards and small cafés. It rests alongside weary
sightseers on the well-worn wooden pews of the Munster.
Glass Music Festival
By Sue Grant
Should you be seized by a sudden urge to hammer nails into a block of wood armed only with a simple household light bulb, which part would you use: the glass or the metal base? This question from
Germany’s most popular talk show star Thomas Gottschalk had not only his guest, supermodel Claudia Schiffer, stumped. All the celebrities present at the television program “Bet that…?” (and no doubt most
of the millions of viewers) could do little more than scratch their heads, guess and wait to see what would happen.
Those who thought the sturdy-looking base would make the better tool were wrong. As the ensuing series of demonstrations conclusively proved, the seemingly fragile glass turned out to be the
better instrument with which to sink long nails into a chunk of sawed-off tree trunk. Glass, it would seem, is full of surprises.
At one end of the scale, this mix of sand, limestone, and soda serves as a resilient battering ram, at the other end it can produce notes so transcendent and ethereal that grown men are reduced to
tears. Providing, of course, they are given the opportunity to hear it. The recently instigated “European Glass Music Festival” in Germany is just one of those rare chances to see, watch, feel, and listen to
the glass experience.
Brot From the Backhaus
By Leah Larkin
She cracked another egg into the gooey mass in the plastic tub. He plunged his hands into the sticky matter, swirled the yellow into the flour and massaged it all with his fingers. She moved on to
the next tub. More liquid needed there. She tipped a tall tin and poured in milk fresh from the farm. Then onto the next tub. She tested the consistency of the contents, then dove in with her hands and kneaded
the dough. Strong, steady, sure – she is a pro.
“I enjoy it, but I get a bit excited now that I’m older,” said Ruth Mohr, 73, as she helped her 11 students through the steps of making bread the way Ooma made it. The Swabian Hausfraubegan
offering classes in bread baking for the local Volkshochschule 21 years ago. These days she only offers afternoon bread sessions a few times a year in her hometown of Dachtel, an old farm community south of
Stuttgart that has a 200-year-old Backhaus where she bakes her bread.
Bauernbrot (farmer’s bread), Vollkornbrot (made from rough-ground kernels), Brötchen (rolls or Weckle as they are called in the Swabian dialect), Zwiebelkuchen (onion cake), Kartoffelkuchen
(potato cake), Zuckerkuchen (sugar cake), Streuselkuchen (cake with crumble topping), Schwäbischekranz and Nusszopf (braided nut cake).
How German Dishes Got Their Names
The Origins of German Foods
By Phyllis Meras
If a Frenchman had not had a horse named Nickel, there would have been no pumpernickel. Or so the story goes.
If a German diplomat had not needed to work over breakfast, there would be no Schnitzel Holstein.
If Austrian Emperor Franz Josef had not lost his way on a hunt and, seeking directions, frightened a farmer’s wife in her kitchen, there would be no Kaiserschmarrn.
It is not just the Brothers Grimm who were so good at telling German fairy tales. The chefs of the German kitchens – High German, Low German, Swiss German, and Austrian – were master
storytellers, too.
Of course, the taste of a dish is what really matters, but a good yarn about its origins somehow makes it even more tempting.
As the pumpernickel story goes, a French soldier, after the Napoleonic conquest of Westphalia, was offered a slice of the dark heavy rye bread for which Westphalia is famous. The hearty peasant
bread did not please his more effete French palate. It certainly was not a bread for him, the soldier sneered, but “bon pour Nickel,” his devoted horse. And so, in time, with a little slurring, the name of
the bread became pumpernickel.
Or there’s the account that links its somewhat indigestible quality to “pumper,” an old German word for a ghost or a demon. This version suggests that, in the stomach, pumpernickel stirs up
everything.
As for Schnitzel Holstein, it was invented for overworked Friedrich von Holstein, political counselor in the German foreign office from 1878 to 1906. Von Holstein favored a long late-in-the-day
breakfast-cum-lunch at which he was not to be disturbed. During this meal, he would read and study the dispatches he had received overnight. The dish that was devised to meet his needs is a veal cutlet topped
with a fried egg, garnished with anchovies, sliced beets, and pickles and served with plenty of home-fried potatoes.
The Enduring Beetle
By Carl Kuntze
It was the populist car Adolph Hitler promised but never delivered to his constituents, when he was sidetracked by his military ambitions. After his engineers told him it would be impossible to
manufacture the car according to his specifications and complying with his price constraints, the Führer turned to automotive genius, Ferdinand Porsche. Dr. Porsche came up with an economical prototype in the
configuration of the later Beetle. Hitler designated it KDF (Kraft Durch Freude) or Strength Through Joy. To Porsche, it was Model 60. It never saw general production. Hitler’s attention was diverted to his
campaigns of conquest, and Porsche’s energies to producing military vehicles, his efforts earning him internment in a French prison as a war criminal.
Dr. Porsche died in 1951 from prison’s after effects, a few years after being released. Even incarcerated, his love for automobiles stimulated his creativity. He assisted the French in designing
the Renault cv, a compact car of remarkable efficiency and durability. He lived long enough to see the Volkswagen resurrected. Even before Hitler had approached him, he had long aspired to produce a car everyone
could afford. Ironically, it would be the Allies who would re-ignite its metamorphosis.
Impoverished postwar Europe was starving for an affordable means of transportation. The first Volkswagen was modest. It had a mere 25 hp engine. The car was light, but not too light as to affect
stability. It could accelerate to 80 km an hour. Its sealed base made it practically waterproof. It had a modular construction and, best of all, an aerodynamic design. Soon, Europeans were lumbering around in
Beetles.
Waltzing in Vienna
By Leah Larkin
It was a dream-come-true. Ever since moving to Germany years ago, I have watched those dancers twirl and spin to the strains of Johann Strauss at the Vienna Opera Ball. The legendary dance and
social event is televised every year, and every year I sit mesmerized by the magic of this elegant and romantic occasion. However, I wanted to do more than watch. I wanted to wear a long gown and fly to the
music with the beautiful people.
Last summer I happened to mention my dream to our German friends Klaus and Dagmar Stark. It seems Dagmar had the same dream, and a way to make it come true. She has a Viennese friend here in
Germany, Sissy Junghanns, a dentist who attends the Ärtzeball (Physicians Ball) every year. During the pre-Lenten Carnival season in Vienna, there are some 300 fancy balls. The Opera Ball is the most famous,
but many of the others, such as the Physician’s Ball, are none too shabby.
I was not content to merely attend the ball. I had to waltz. However, I did not know how, nor did my husband. Perhaps the waltz was covered back in those sixth grade dancing classes at Miss
Peabody’s dance school, but that was long, long ago.
Das Märchen
Austrian Story Teller Keeps an Old Art Form Alive
By David Domine
“You must once more learn the art of story telling and listening in order to be able to communicate…”
Folke Tegetthoff comes across as an unobtrusive man, a bit soft-spoken and even unpretentious. Mild-mannered, some might say. However, you have to give him one thing: he does have an active
imagination. He claims he awoke one morning to find a small fairy perched on his shoulder, ready to cut a deal. She, the fairy, would whisper dainty little earfuls of delightful stories as long as he, Mr.
Tegetthoff, would agree to write them down for her. The arrangement seems to be a good one, since she has continued to ply him with stories and inspiration ever since, and he has dutifully transposed them,
delighting people the world over and at the same time making a name for himself as this generation’s foremost teller of fairy tales.
Before this time, Folke Tegetthoff had tried his hand at songwriting and public relations, but after his first encounter with fairy tales in the late 1970s, he knew he “was hooked.” A record
company had hired him to complete a collection of recorded tales and after the first reading of Hans Christian Andersen’s stories, he claims “it hit [him] like a flash one morning, that fairy tales would
become [his] life’s calling.” He went to the Spanish island of Ibiza to “discover [him]self” for a while and took some time to learn a little more about the art of story telling. Not one to dally around,
Tegetthoff dove in and started to tell his tales, relying on his own little fairy.
His first book of tales came out in 1979 and he slowly overcame his fear of speaking in public, from 1982 to 1984, traveling the globe from one Austrian embassy to another, telling his tales and
gaining popularity. By 1986, he had published ten more books and achieved such international recognition for his contributions to a dying art form that the first international archive of his work was opened. The
Folke Tegetthoff Collection was opened at Murray State University in Kentucky, a result of close collaboration with a friend and colleague there, Dr. Milton Grimes.
Namibia
By Andre E. Martinaglia
In 1883, a wealthy merchant from Bremen, Germany, Adolf Lüderitz, motivated by a desire to expand the German Empire, established a trading station in South Africa on the shores of the bay which
is now called Luderitzbucht. He purchased the bay from the local Hottentot chief of Bethanien who owned it and, as a result, a German settlement grew.
Lüderitz, like Swakopmund (named after the Swakop River) further north, including the British enclave Walvis (whale) Bay, then South African and now part of Namibia, are all situated on the West
Coast. This is where the mighty Namib Desert, with the highest recorded sand dunes, meets the sea. As a result, when the early settlers arrived there, the seawater had to be condensed for human consumption and
use.
A y ear later, Chancellor Bismarck placed Namibia, then known as German South West Africa, under the protection of the German Government.
In order to govern and protect the occupied territory, a colonial army had to take action to patrol this vast area of land. They were known as the Schutztruppen, and were responsible for policing
the country using horses and camels on long patrols through desert areas, and longer journeys over miles and miles of open space.
Before Namibia was occupied, missionaries like the German Hugo Hahn were operating in the country. Hugo Hahn arrived in 1841, spreading the Christian gospel to the second biggest ethnic tribal
group in the country, the Herrero. He learned their language, translated large portions of the Bible into the Herrero language and established a mission station at Otjimbingme.
Passenger Lists: Teeter-Totter Between New, Old Worlds
By James M. Beidler
Genealogists are inevitably told as beginners to “work from the known to the unknown.” This is especially true in attempting to establish a German hometown for an immigrant family, since one
of the tried-and-true methods in such a search is studying the families with whom the immigrants sailed to America.
“The phenomenon is well-established that emigrants from the same village sailed together,” said Annette K. Burgert, who has written more than a dozen books pinpointing the homes of Germans who
came to America in the 18th century. In her book on emigrants from the town of Langenselbold in Hesse, she found that 15 families from the village made the voyage on a single ship, the Francis and Elizabeth,
in 1742. All told, 65 of the 72 emigrant families that Burgert documented came on ships with at least one other Langenselbold family.
Another well-known researcher of German emigrants, Henry Z. “Hank” Jones, Jr., says that in his 40 years of research, the slogan "they came together – they stayed together!" has
helped him to document well over 2,000 colonists in their ancestral German homes. “By closely studying their fellow passengers on ship's lists, who witnessed each other's deeds and wills in America and
sponsored their children, and examining the juxtaposition of names on unalphabetized lists, clues to mutual foreign origins leap out at you,” Jones said.
Descendants of Germans are fortunate that passenger lists exist for a greater percentage of their forefathers than perhaps any other ethnic group. This is the happy by product of the Colonial era
Pennsylvania legislature’s paranoia regarding the large influx of Germans who responded to William Penn’s “Holy Experiment.”
Beginning in 1727, ship lists were required to be kept with the names of foreigners coming into Pennsylvania¹s port of Philadelphia (A “foreigner” being described as someone not a subject of
the King of England, which means that no such lists were kept of the many who came from the British Isles to America. Pennsylvania was the only colony that even kept extensive lists of foreigners). These ship
lists have been transcribed and published in the three volumes of Pennsylvania German Pioneers, which covers 1727 to 1808.
Passenger Lists:
- Strassburger, Ralph B. and William J. Hinke. Pennsylvania German Pioneers, 1727-1808. Pennsylvania German Society: Norristown, PA: 1934; reprint Picton Press: Camden, ME: 1992.
- Filby, P. William and Ira A. Glazier, ed. Germans to America; Lists of Passengers Arriving at U.S. Ports, vols. 1ff. Scholarly Resources: Wilmington, DE, 1988ff.
- Burgert, Annette Kunselman. Master Index to the Emigrants Documented in the Published Works of Annette K. Burgert, F.A.S.G., F.G.S.P. AKB Publications: Myerstown, PA, 1993. (Other works include: Eighteenth Century Emigrants series)
- Jones, Henry Z., Jr. The Palatine Families of New York: A Study of the German Immigrants Who Arrived in Colonial New York in 1710. Hank Jones Publishing Co.: Universal City, CA, 1985
(Other works include: More Palatine Families; The Palatine Families of Ireland; Even More Palatine Families: 18th Century Immigrants to the American Colonies and Their German, Swiss, and Austrian Origins)
- Palmer, Michael P. German and American Sources for German Emigration to America. Article found at URL: www.genealogienetz.de/misc/emig/emigrati.html
- Hacker, Werner, ed. Eighteenth century register of emigrants from southwest Germany to America and other countries. Apollo, PA: Closson Press, 1994.
Calendar March 2003
Columbia, SC
March 1-30: Bonsack: Paintings and drawings by the german artist H. Robert Bonsack (1903-1987). Lecture March 19. For info call 803-777-3895 or e-mail crmack1@gwm.sc.edu
North Bergen, NJ
March 1:Beerfest: Young American-German Club. For info call 973-423-5460 or e-mail tina@ygac.org or see www.ygac.org
Aliceville, AL
March 14-15: 60th Reunion of the German POWs at Camp Aliceville. Aliceville Museum will host the 60the Anniversary of the arrival of the first German POWs
1942-1945. For info call 888-751-2340 or e-mail museum@pickens.net For info on the museum see http://AlicevilleMuseum.pickens.net or www.GrantStation.com
Menomee Falls, WI
March 15: Lumpenball Spielmannszug Milwaukee. At Schwabenhof. For info call 262-246-4970.
Brielle, NJ
March 14-30: Spring Tour.
Lebanon, PA
March 15: Annual Pennsylvania German Heritage Festival. Lebanon Campus of Harrisburg Area Community College. For info call 717-270-4222.
Lantana/Lake Worth, FL
March 22: 12th Annual German Heritage Day Dinner-Dance. United German American Society of Florida, Inc. For information contact Bud Schmitt ay mon@aol.com or 561-745-2258.
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